


Calligraphy

by Serenity59



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:00:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23129698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serenity59/pseuds/Serenity59
Summary: Just a one-shot of you watching Ben write with his ink and brushes :) Comments are my treats!
Relationships: Ben Solo | Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 39





	Calligraphy

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you think!

You watch as though in a trance as Ben strokes his pen across the parchment with delicate movements, ink smoothing out to form perfect letters in languages you couldn’t even begin to read. You barely learned Basic while you were growing up- reading and writing were luxuries, a talent set reserved for those rich enough to afford education. You never attended a single class growing up, always busy working to earn enough for food and water. But you were driven, motivated to learn nonetheless, so you picked up reading by watching words on menus, market signs, even the lettering painted on old ships you’d come across. 

Ben, though, was another story. Ben was graceful, Ben was precise in the words he chose and put on paper. He was incredibly smart in almost every subject you could think of, excelling in math and almost all forms of the arts. You couldn’t be sure, but you knew he was fluent in at least three languages (including the extinct Alderaanian which he learned from Leia). Watching him write was like watching beauty in motion, and you could do it all day. 

You rested your chin on your hands as he picked up a different quill from his calligraphy set, dipping it into the pot of ink before resuming his work. 

“Why’d you stop using that one?” You asked suddenly, gesturing to the brush he’d just set down. 

Ben’s eyes never left his work, gazing intently as he traced the outline of a letter. “That one’s not for thin serif font,” he answered quietly, “the brush is too wide.”

You wished you could understand what he meant, but you had a better grasp on Lanai dinner manners than you did on the words he’d just spoken. You moved closer to him on the floor, sitting cross legged to stare at the letter he was tracing with the thinner metal quill. “What’s that word mean?” You questioned, pursing your lips, puzzled. Ordinarily, you’d never ask this many questions for fear of bothering someone, but you knew Ben and his uncanny ability to never tire from your seemingly boring stories. It was odd, but you’d seen it enough times to know it was true; he’d get annoyed if anyone else pestered him more than once, but you could tell him an hour long story about the baby porgs that you once raised during a sandstorm and he would never bat an eye. 

“It’s Chiss. It means mountain face, or, the flattest part of a rock formation.” He replied, the dark ink swirling as he finished the lettering. 

You raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly as you leaned your head on his shoulder. “Poetic,” you mused, pressing your lips to the side of his cheek. 

He paused in the middle of his work, hands freezing just above the paper at your touch. He turned slowly to meet your eyes, dark brown pools of amber boring into yours. The corner of his lips quirked up ever so slightly, and he let himself lean into your contact. 

“You have a knack for inspiring me.” Ben murmured, kissing you deeply and reverently before pulling away. Your hand lingered in the locks of his black hair until he was done.

  
  



End file.
